Where'd The Time Go? Chapter 1
by FalloutGuy1986
Summary: Kazdin, Boone and Veronica go back in time in this 5,000 viewer celebration. We will be getting back to "Chapter 1 Kaz-humor" with this piece, which is to say you're gonna get the wide-eyed and innocent dumb courier that we started out with. Enjoy!
1. The FEELS of Excite!

The 5,000th

Where'd the Time Go?

**A/N: Hello, hello fans of Kaz! As I mentioned in my work in progress, The Adventures of Kazdin Willow: Brotherhood of Steel, I have recently passed the 5,000 viewer mark and I am very excited, enthralled even with the numbers I am seeing. **

**It seems like so long ago that I was worrying (whining?) to my friend Ghoulmask because for such a long time my numbers were so small that I gasped. My work on Adult Fan Fiction was so laughably low that I ended up closing my account after three years of waiting patiently with only five comments on stuff I worked damn hard on. So I gathered up everything I wrote (My Andrew Ross series and a couple one shots of different genre) and said goodbye. But the thing is, I never wanted to walk out on you guys. I wanted to hang around and hope that things turned around, and turned around they have. Here I sit now with over 5,000 views, a slew of subscribers and 20-something reviews and I am truly happy I stayed. **

**I want to say one more time how much I appreciate my subscribers, viewers and commenters. You guys make this stuff worthwhile. It's always been fun to write creatively, but knowing there are people out there who like what I do is inspiring. Thank you all very much.**

**So, I have a two-parter for you guys. This first thing here is a special for everyone to kinda celebrate. We are gonna send Kaz and her two favorite people ever back in time!**

**Enjoy everyone!**

CHAPTER ONE: The FEELS of Excite!

Kazdin Willow practically sprinted all the way back to the lucky 38 from the eerie satellite crash zone near Primm, she was so excited. She had stared in awe and wonder at the new place she had discovered, well, more or less by accident as she was transported there against her own will in the blink of an eye. But she felt that she had discovered it, and so in her mind she had.

Kazdin arrived at the North Gate of the Strip in record time, beating her old time of six hours by half an hour. She was too beside herself with excitement to actually record that number in her head, however and therefore the minutes which had been shaved were forgotten immediately.

"Oh boy! Oh boyohboyohboyohboyohboyohboy!" Kazdin exclaimed as she rushed toward the giant glitzy gate blocking off the strip from anybody without the acceptable number of caps.

"Hey Trevor!" Kazdin called to the Securitron guarding the gate, one of the six who's duty began and ended at the gate every single night. She had originally had the idea to rotate the metallic guards every few hours, but Boone had talked her down from that idea. She had an aw shucks look for a couple of hours, but she had come to realize just how pointless rotating robots, who neither felt pain or grew weary, through their guard duty.

"I am Securitron 546745-A, ma'am." The synthesized voice of the robot explained in a monotone.

Kazdin stood stock still and cocked her head slightly as she pondered what the strange numbers meant. She forgot the numbers the guard robot gave her after two minutes, but continued to mull around the idea of what the numbers, whatever they were, could mean. At one point she actually started to drool a little as her mind slowly processed this new information.

"Uhh…I mean…Trevor."

If the hulking robot had the capacity to sound incredulous then that would be the exact tone he would have affected.

However the former courier heard the robot answer by its unofficial nickname and she piped up immediately and bounced on her toes a little.

"Okay! I need to get through! I gotta go to the Lucky 38 and talk to Craig and Veronica!" Kaz exclaimed as excited as she was before she lapsed into her temporary thinking-coma.

"You have a free passport, Super-Awesome Mayor Kazdin." The robot intoned patiently.

"Oh, yeah! I was just so excited that I forgot. Thanks, Trevor!" Kazdin said smiling wide as she pushed the doors open and entered the Strip.

The Lucky 38 stood as tall as it ever had, gleaming in the afternoon sun. Its roulette spinner may have been permanently frozen in its current position, but that didn't stop Kazdin from trying to spice it up with a few lights around the outside windows.

The impromptu decorating job was one that Boone tried his best to discourage, and even the normally supportive Veronica tried to dissuade her from donning safety rope salvaged from an old sporting goods store and hanging precariously outside the window…hundreds of feet from the very hard, very unforgiving ground and doing her work.

She had gloated that she knew she could do it when she returned into the safety of the abandoned restaurant resting atop the Lucky 38. Boone and Veronica were just happy that she made it through alive.

Kazdin burst through the door into the always dingy casino, the reds and blacks and yellows and greens all faded through years of neglect, and the various games and relics downstairs were eventually forgotten by the late Mr. House.

She hit the elevator button two or three times in haste before the doors opened with a ding. She stepped inside and bounced impatiently on her toes before the doors finally opened once more and she stepped out into the hall of the Presidential Suite she had set her sights on.

"Heyyyyy… Umm, hello? Hello?" Kazdin called into the hallway of the suite, flabbergasted to find that nobody was around.

"Hello? Craig? Veronica? Anybody? Hellooooo!" Kazdin called as she went about checking doors and finding every room to be devoid of any intelligent life.

"…J.D.?" Kazdin called out softly to the mercenary sniper who sometimes called the suite her home, whether or not the rest of the group was comfortable with it.

The same ghostly silence answered her. She sighed before she stepped back into the elevator. She wondered where they could be. The only other two places were the restaurant and the .

Kazdin knew that Veronica would not be able to resist the priceless technology located on the Penthouse floor, and with Mr. House long gone, that was as good a place as any to look for her wayward friends.

She stepped off of the elevator once again on the Penthouse floor, looking left and right. She heard papers rustling from below the stairs and she smiled triumphantly.

Kazdin made her way down the steps two at a time. Veronica was indeed on this floor, flipping through the many books found on the shelves that formerly constituted House's private office floor.

"Veronica! Where is everybody?" Kazdin asked, approaching her longtime friend.

Veronica greeted her happily, placing one of the ancient tomes back onto the shelf, a book called _Dante's Inferno._

"Hey, Kaz. You're finally back! Me and Boone were going crazy bored without you around to entertain us." Veronica quipped, making Kazdin smile.

"You didn't have any problems around here with politics did you?" Kazdin asked, her smile turning into a worried frown.

"No, nothing to be worried about. The Kings started griping about having to pay a larger tax than most of the factions around here. We explained that it was because they were more well-to-do and could afford what most other Freesiders couldn't, but that we would raise the issue with you. No need to worry about it now though.

"Also, Julie met with Boone to talk about increasing protection for the Mormon Fort. They've had a few break-ins and Julie was even robbed at gunpoint a few days ago by some radical mercenaries. They killed her guards and she was forced to give them chems and other supplies. It damn near bankrupted the Followers, but don't worry. The Securitrons followed them and they're all dead now. Unfortunately the supplies were gone. So Boone sent over a squad of Brotherhood of Steel Paladins to help protect the Mormon Fort."

"Good! Good, I hate to see Julie get threatened and bullied. She's so nice." Kazdin said, her brow creasing with anger that the Followers had been threatened. She loved the Followers and Julie in particular, although she adored Arcade Gannon as well. Julie was her favorite though. She often took her out for girl's nights over at the Ultra Luxe.

Julie could be demure at times, but with the downward spiral of crime in Freeside since Kazdin came to power and with a new pending marriage to Bill Ronte in the works, she seriously came out of her shell and started being one of Kazdin's favorite hang-out buddies. She even agreed to have a night in with Kaz and Veronica in the Lucky 38, gossiping and painting each other's nails and talking about magazines and boys. A very welcome respite from the violence outside the walls of Freeside and the Strip. It was a chance for Kaz and her friends to just be ladies and she relished every opportunity.

"Yeah, she's great. It sucks how some people would prey on a woman like her. It just makes my blood boil." Veronica said with an angry sigh. Kazdin nodded. She knew all too well.

"Any problems with the NCR remnants around Freeside?" Kazdin asked.

"No actually, after the initial riots and such a few months ago when you took power the Securitrons and the Brotherhood and everybody pretty much quelled the violence and they are calming down and trying to fit into life. So that is a very good thing." Veronica answered with a smile.

Kazdin nodded.

"Damn, but I hated doing that." Kazdin sighed.

"What, quelling an uprising?" Veronica asked. Kaz nodded.

"Well, sorry to say this, but the only way to protect your regime is to stand against people who are uprising simply out of spite. If you were doing wrong and were corrupted then I'd have to put a few knots on your head, but you have ruled admirably and are adored by most of the populace now. The NCR remnants were the ones who started shooting first." Veronica reassured her. It actually made Kaz feel better, knowing that she wasn't some tyrant putting down dissidents who had a right to rebel against a dictator.

"Anyway, Boone is upstairs a level. He has moved into one of the big beds resting on the landing up there through the curtain. Says your guys' bedroom is too lonely without you there." Veronica said with a knowing smile.

Kazdin's own smile was one of affection.

"He said that?" Kazdin said, her eyes misting.

"Yeah he did. He's actually pretty romantic." Veronica answered.

Kazdin nodded and wiped a tear from her eye.

"By the way, you bounded down those steps two at a time. Excited much?" Veronica asked with a big grin.

This reminded Kazdin and she sucked in a huge breath before presenting the grey box in her hands to Veronica who eyed it curiously.

Kazdin opened the lid wide and there within the metal walls of the lockbox sat a technological marvel. It was about a foot long and was very light to the touch. It glowed with purple energy and emitted a low pulsing noise. It looked like a ray gun but carried no ammunition.

"This is the Transportalponder. No idea why it's got such a long and hard to remember name, but it is fucking EPIC!" Kazdin exclaimed.

"Whoa, cool! I like the purple part!" Veronica said.

"What does it do?" the scribe asked staring at it longingly.

"When you pull the trigger when you're outside it will transport you to Big Mountain in like a second! It's teleporting technology and I thought since it can be programmed with the long/lat of Big Mountain then it could maybe transport us anywhere else we want to go." Kazdin said, proud that she remembered just how it worked.

"But doesn't your pip boy already do that?" Veronica asked, looking to Kazdin's right arm on which she kept the strange device.

"Yeah, but only for me." Kazdin said offhandedly, still staring at the device held in the box between the two friends.

"We could go to the moon with this thing." Kazdin said, her voice low with reverence.

"Yeah I guess, but why would you want to?" Veronica asked.

"Would you _not _want to go to the moon?" Kazdin asked, surprised.

"There's no oxygen." Veronica deadpanned.

"Oh yeah! Well, I picked up a space suit at the Repconn Headquarters when we cleared it out of all those ghouls." Kazdin reminded Veronica.

"Oh! Then hell, maybe you could go to the moon." Veronica said.

"Nah, I wouldn't unless I was bored one day and you guys were out. I only have one space suit." Kazdin said.

"I'm sure neither Boone nor myself would argue with you too much." Veronica said with a laugh.

"But I might get eaten by Martians." Kazdin said, her eyes growing wide with the thought. Veronica playfully slapped Kazdin in the back of her head with a loud laugh.

"Martians are on Mars, Kazdin!" Veronica shouted within a fit of laughter. Kazdin's cheeks grew red.

"You don't know that." Kaz defended herself.

"The term Martian has Mars right in the title." Veronica said.

"Have _you _ever been to space?" Kazdin argued, hands clutching the device as she took it out of the box to look at it and hold it.

"No, I haven't but trust me, Martians are on Mars." Veronica said.

"Prove it!" Kazdin argued back, holding the Transportalponder between them.

"Okay Kaz, that is power infinite you are holding in your hands. Give it to me and I can learn about it." Veronica said. Kazdin shook her head and held it close.

Veronica reached in and grabbed the thing and tugged on it in an effort to dislodge it from Kazdin's hands.

"Let me see it!" Veronica shouted.

"No! You want it for yourself!" Kazdin shouted back, pulling on the device.

"Hey, it's kind of hard to sleep with you guys yelling." Boone said, appearing beside the two friends. He reached in and tried dislodging the piece of technology from both squabbling women.

His thumb hit a button at random and all of a sudden the trio was engulfed in a pulsating, transparent blue orb of energy.

"Hey…Does everything look blue…" Kazdin started as the three friends disappeared in seconds, only to reappear somewhere else. Somewhere…different.

The building was the same but everything was so much brighter and better kept. The bookshelves were clean and chipper and made of polished wood rather than the splintering substance that Kaz was used to.

The concrete floors were covered in polished tile and instead of a gigantic monitor and patrolling robots, the far room housed hundreds of people, dancing and singing and laughing as a hearty swing tune played. Frank Sinatra's unmistakable tones emanated from the radios all around the Lucky 38 and the lights were dimmed, allowing for a more romantic atmosphere.

The men wore button down shirts tucked into corduroy trousers, some wearing fedoras but most having various haircuts of the 50's. Pompadours with bushy sideburns, slicked back hair with pencil mustaches.

A group of five greasers stood in the corner of the room looking cool and collected as they chatted with their boys. Black denim and black leather motorcycle jackets worn open over tight fitting white tee-shirts. One of the boys eschewed the traditional greaser jacket in favor of the simple white shirt, allowing him to show off his muscular chest, abs and arms, the latter part of the shirt rolled up tight on the right displaying a not-so-concealed pack of cigarettes. Their hair was slicked back with all the gel they could fit in their hair, and the black follicles were going nowhere until it was time to shower.

The girls in the crowd wore single piece silk dresses in their greens and pinks and Kazdin's favorite color of blue. Most of the dresses were held in place by a single large brown button at their shoulders. Their knee length socks protected their feet from leather pumps matching their dresses. Their pocketbooks were held tightly underneath their arms, the thin spaghetti strap taught around their bare shoulders.

The women's hairstyles were straight out of a fashion magazine. Short hair cropped beautifully to frame pretty faces while medium length hair was curled along the left sides, framing their equally pretty faces with an air of class. Sparse makeup and glopped-on lipstick accented their lovely facial features.

"…Or is it just me?" Kazdin finished her previous thought as all three of the hardened commandos stared in silent wonder as they looked in on in a Saturday Night sock hop in progress.

"Something tells me we're not in our Mojave anymore." Veronica gasped in suspense.

Kazdin looked in amazement at her pip boy.

The date: July 7th, 1951

"Well…shit." Kazdin breathed.


	2. Go Soak Your Head and Get Outta Dodge

Three sets of eyes took on the image of the Lucky 38's guests all smiling and laughing with wonder as three separate minds were shocked beyond words. The trio's speechlessness notwithstanding, Kazdin knew within her limited knowledge regarding technology that the Transportalponder would only transmit them to the Big Empty –or back home— once they were outside.

That didn't seem like a long and convoluted undertaking, but the casino's lounge was filled from top to bottom with merry-making partiers. If the group wanted to escape from the walls of the Lucky 38 while maintaining a low profile, then she and the rest of the gang would need to be clever and not draw too much attention to themselves.

Kazdin sighed and took her comrades' hands in her own before pulling them beneath the staircase in an attempt to gain some measure of privacy.

"Why is it that every time you two argue you rip a hole into the space-time continuum?" Boone said, rubbing his temples with his strong fingers.

"That only happened once, shut up, you don't know what you're talking about." Kazdin said as she folded her arms across her chest, looking away embarrassed.

"Nevertheless, this is one fine mess we have gotten ourselves into. The only way out is through a sea of 50's stereotypes." Veronica said as she contemplated their surroundings.

"And we don't exactly fit in around here." Boone followed up, motioning to his own leather armor.

"I know. We look nothing like those people. I don't think anybody has seen us yet. We could dress up and disguise ourselves somehow." Kazdin said thoughtfully.

"We don't have access to any of their clothes or anything." Veronica pointed out.

"No, but I bet the Presidential Suite has what we need. We just need to get to the elevator without drawing a lot of attention to ourselves." Kazdin reasoned.

"Well, there's no way to avoid that," Veronica said, crossing her arms, "but we can at least make our way upstairs and change when we get there. The only way out of here is through the casino and judging from the crowd in this place it's going to be packed."

"Alright, first hurdle then. We need to get upstairs. Let's just go slow and not look anyone in the eye." Kazdin said. The others nodded and they made their way slowly out from underneath the staircase.

The plan was a good one, but no sooner had they stepped foot upon the first stair had they caught someone's eye.

The greasers who stood at the top of the stairwell noticed the two lovely ladies and proceeded to elbow one another and howl catcalls at them.

"Hey there pussycats, you new around here?" One of the men said to Kazdin, eyeing her blue-clad body up and down. Another leered at Veronica who tried hard to keep her anger abated.

"Brand new. Excuse us." Kazdin answered with a polite smile.

One of the gang members draped an arm across the posts which held the staircase steady against the landing.

"Why would ya go and get all impatient on Brick house Marty? What's your name toots?" the one who referred to himself in third person said with a cocky grin.

"Nobody cares, please move." Kazdin said, irritated.

"Now I know you ain't supposed to be talking to us that way. Why don't you simmer down and be nice. C'mon, what's you and your foxy lady friend here doing in fabulous Las Vegas?" Marty said, bringing his unwanted presence nearer to the bewildered courier.

"Hey buster, you leave us alone and we won't have to break your nose." Veronica challenged, moving closer to the man. She went nose to nose with Marty, who happened to be the biggest, burliest member of the gang.

"Wait your turn woman. You and me can tango later, right now I'm dealing with this lovely, honey-mouthed bitch." The greaser teased.

Boone placed a hand on Veronica's shoulder and nodded at her when she looked back at him. She moved out of the way to allow Boone to step up.

"I'll tell you this now," Boone said, his gravelly voice low and dangerous, "You have three seconds to leave these women alone or you answer to me."

"And who are you, their boyfriend? Why don't you leave the way you came? If you can't tell it's four to one. The odds don't seem to be in your favor." Marty sneered as his three friends stepped up behind him to support the big man's claim.

"I can see how you would think that." Kaz challenged, her smirk growing as her eyes narrowed.

"And what are a couple of gravy-makers like you gonna do to a bunch a big boys like us? Iron our shirts to death?"

He got no further as Boone's rocklike fist connected with Marty's chin, causing the big man to stumble backwards.

Two of the man's friends stepped toward Boone, only to be intercepted by Veronica and Kaz.

Veronica blocked a decent sized man's fist. The man looked surprised to say the least, but the look was wiped from his face as Veronica's diminutive hand struck his face center mass. Blood spurted from his abused nose, streaking across the tacky floral wallpaper. He stumbled back, hand grasping his leaking nose gingerly.

Kazdin had kicked her target in the abdomen, doubling him over while she rained solid forearms down across his muscled back. He swiped at her but was predictably much slower than the catlike courier. She dodged his fist easily and buried her knee into his stomach once again before delivering a startlingly hard fist across his cheek.

She dodged another wild swipe and grabbed the muscle-bound greaser by the legs, forcing him into the air and slamming him hard onto the hardwood floor. Once he was down she landed blow after blow after blow into his eye sockets and nose before he was able to bring his large arms up to block the attacks Kazdin launched.

Sensing an imminent momentum shift, Kaz rolled away from the prone man's form and rose to her feet. She grinned wickedly at the fallen man. The tip of her pink tongue winked at him as it flicked across her lower lip for an instant. The fleshy appendage reentered her mouth with the taste of coppery blood lush upon her taste buds. The wounded man whimpered in fear.

Kazdin turned her attention toward Veronica in time to push her friend away from the grasp of the fourth man in Marty's gang. His grappling maneuver was rendered ineffective while Kazdin kneed him in the gut, his belly was discovered to be softer than the man she had been fighting earlier and therefore easier for her knee to cause damage.

Once the fat man was doubled over, Kaz used his momentum against him and rammed his head into the wooden banister, causing it to splinter in half. Kazdin followed up by grabbing the man's tight fitting blue jeans and throwing him bodily through the wooden spindles which had held the banister together. The spindles and handrail cracked and snapped and the big man fell to the floor several feet below to land with an audible smack and a groan of extreme discomfort.

Only Marty remained, grappling with Boone as he tried to match power with the big greaser. Marty was several inches taller than Boone and very athletic. The power match was a tie at the moment.

Kaz looked innocently at Veronica who nodded with a twinkle in her eye. Both women nonchalantly walked behind Boone.

"Craig dear, would you do me a kind favor and duck?" Kazdin asked, her voice way to friendly for what was to come.

Boone ducked as instructed and with a pair of gleeful smiles both courier and scribe delivered their best, hardest punches to the hapless greaser's face causing him to fall backward, seeing stars. Boone walked up to the fallen man slowly and lifted his boot before stomping hard on his forehead, effectively knocking him out.

"Not bad for a couple housewives." Boone smirked at Kazdin and Veronica.

"Not bad for a high and mighty man in the 1950's." Kazdin replied before kissing her man's rugged – and busted – lips.

It was a strange sensation, but tasting Boone's blood among his usual fresh taste was turning her on. It was primal and sexy and she knew that whenever they arrived back in their Lucky 38 casino, she would waste no time in pulling the ex-military sniper into their shared bedroom, dropping him to the mattress and impaling herself on his "other" gun.

Shaking her head from her fantasies she took in the sight around her.

The gathered party had descended into silence as they had watched the display of two women holding their own even better than three large and mean men. This was, of course, a sight they had never seen before as men and women of the era and knowing that there were women who were tough enough to handle themselves caused many of the oh-so-tough manly men in the casino to swoon.

Kazdin gave an innocent little wave before leading her entourage toward the elevator. Waiting on the inside was a peculiar little man with a finely combed moustache and slicked back hair.

"That was quite the debacle, my good man. Did you really handle that many men for ingratiating themselves to your lovely women?" the swarthy, wiry man asked as he studied his grey pinstriped suit in the mirror which had suddenly appeared in the casino's only elevator.

"Actually, we took on most of them and then helped Craig take out the last guy." Kazdin said as if she were telling him what type of coffee she enjoyed. The ex-courier seemed to study her nails.

The man stared unbelieving at the raven haired woman. Before long he let out a piercing laugh from his wiry frame. The laugh continued on for a long time. Long enough for Kazdin to get pissed off and knee the man in the balls.

This, of course stopped the laugh in a great whoosh of air, causing the disrespectful little worm to fall to his knees holding his groin.

"Dick." Kazdin said disdainfully as the elevator dinged and the doors opened to reveal a largely untouched Presidential Suite.

The lady and her friends stepped out of the elevator with lively guffaws of their own.

**BBBBBBBB**

"I mean seriously! It's as if all the men here are milder versions of the Legion!" Kazdin shouted in frustration.

"Yeah, welcome to the 50's. It's perfectly legal to beat up a spouse or girlfriend if she displeases a man in this age. Makes me sick." Boone grumbled as he checked the length of his black tuxedo's arm sleeves.

He looked strikingly handsome. The suit wasn't tailored to fit his bulky frame, but it fit very well, hugging all the right areas of his muscular body. It showed enough cuff and the black bowtie completed the image of sophisticated class.

"Fucking Sean Connery." Veronica muttered as she struggled with the strapless bust of her blue evening gown.

"Who?" Kazdin wondered aloud, frowning at the unfamiliar name as she stared into the giant mirror applying her mascara.

"Sean Connery. Quintessential 50's and 60's manly man role model. Pinched women's asses, slapped 'em around if they didn't act like typical housewives. Hairy monkey chest. Played James Bond a few times. His roles were alright but God damn what a disrespectful, ass-slapping fucker he was."

Veronica's explanation made Kazdin chuckle.

"Well, I let Craig slap my ass." Kaz admitted.

"Well, yeah, when he's making you cum. That's different." Veronica replied as if she were talking about the inner workings of her power fist.

"Also, I have never slapped any other part of you babe." Boone said with a knowing smile.

"Touché." Kazdin said before taking a tube of red lipstick to her slightly parted lips.

**BBBBBBBB**

The men in the ball room made sure to keep their distance from the two lovely but hostile women who descended the stairs with their male escort. Many of the ladies gave Boone approving stares which he ignored.

He fought to keep a grin off his lips as he clung tighter to Kazdin's arm, both of which were covered in long white stockings which ended just past her elbows. She looked radiant in her floor length light blue gown. A gold Sapphire brooch completed the ensemble, only adding to the courier's beauty.

Veronica smiled at a few of the male patrons who dared meet her eye and most seemed to approve of her dark blue, form-hugging cocktail dress. The skirt was pleated making it stand out from the rest of the material which clung alluringly to her skin. The strapless bust displayed a proud amount of cleavage among Veronica's ample bosom. No wastelander could ever tell that the lovely scribe was well-endowed, but beneath the dirty, dusty robes she had a very attractive figure, her breasts being two impressive handfuls.

_Stars of the Midnight Ranger _started playing just as Kazdin, Boone and Veronica stepped onto the dance floor. Kazdin shrieked and bounced on her toes.

"I love this song! I love it so much! Dance with me Craig!" Kazdin shouted happily, grabbing Boone's rough hand and pulling him out onto the dance floor.

Veronica smirked as she watched her two best friends leave her behind. A tough looking young man tried to catch her eye but Veronica looked right past him and noticed a young woman, maybe twenty years old sitting upon the cushions of an antique sofa. Her short dark hair was teased and spiked. She didn't look like one of the more elegant women who filled the place. Her "dress" was a short black skirt and her blouse a black T-Shirt with the image of the members of the band _John and Jackie _pictured in the center, along with the words _Little Girl_. She wore dark eyeliner and bright red lipstick.

Veronica was entrance and attracted, but covered it well with her trademark perky confidence. She took a breath and approached the pretty young woman.

"So, how is it that a cute girl such as you doesn't have a partner on the dance floor?" Veronica asked cheerfully.

"Because these days suck fucking hard. The fake idiots around here are a little… uptight about my kind of fun." She mumbled, taking her eyes from a well-worn issue of _Keep Rockin' _magazine to burn into Veronica's.

"And your kind of fun is…?" Veronica prompted quirking an eyebrow.

"I am a rocker and I am a lesbian. If you wanna judge me for that then fuck off and go back to your façade of being better than me." The woman snapped, her green eyes narrowing.

"And yet here you are judging me by my cover." Veronica said with a smirk.

"So, who are you?" the young woman ventured suspiciously.

"My name's Veronica. While I am not a rocker, more of an easy listening rock and roll buff, I am bisexual. So we have at least half a thing in common." Veronica answered with a genuine smile.

The young woman thought about it for a moment before motioning one gloved hand toward the unoccupied section of the sofa upon which she sat. Veronica joined her and sat back comfortably.

"The Inkspots are alright and I love Billie Holiday," the woman admitted, "My name is Millie. Millicent actually but I hate that fucking name. Momma gave it to me but I'd rather be called Millie."

Veronica playfully shook Millie's hand. The girl cracked a smile.

"So, a punky lesbian who enjoys black music. Wow there's a lot of stereotypes broken there, and I love every bit of it." Veronica stated.

"I feel like I was born in the wrong time to be honest. I hate the prejudices and shit thrust upon cultures of men and women just because they don't fit into the classic little _Leave it to Beaver _mold. Perfection in society, the American Dream and quaintness are so completely out of place and false it makes my head spin." Millie said, a shudder running through her body.

"Whoa, tell me you at least respect your parents. Sure there are a lot of completely unreal things to 50's society, but I love helping my… family wash dishes and gather supplies and stuff like that."

"Sure. I mean they've bought the perfect apple-pie-and-baseball American Lie hook, line and sinker. But just because I'm different doesn't mean that I don't love them. I do my chores, I'm at the top of my class in High School, and I help my momma cook. My dad is always a little nonplussed when I help him fix car problems though." Millie allowed a wide smile and a soft laugh to escape.

"Well my parents… well let's just say they seem to be from another time too. They taught me a lot about self defense and working on steel pneumatic things." Veronica said. She grinned to herself, proud that she was able to tell the truth without giving away her connections to time travel.

"That must be heaven. To live with a mom and dad who accept you for who you are without pushing ideas of feminizing and the "right" way to marry down your throat. It makes me mad sometimes. But for the few flaws they have they are very wonderful parents. Sure it'd be nice if they would accept me for who I am but, you know what I think?" Millie paused, prompting Veronica to ask.

"I think that if I did not experience any level of opposition to my personal beliefs and way of life, whether they are from family or friends or idiots with pencil mustaches, I would not be as tough and devout as I am now."

"That's a very mature response to the issue of persecution." Veronica said grinning.

"Please." Millie responded irritably, rolling her eyes.

"What?" Veronica wondered, her brows arching.

"It's not persecution. Jeez. The slaves faced persecution. Ancient Christians and Jews faced persecution. World War II was persecution. Hitler murdering over six-million human beings for being different was the very definition of persecution. We lesbians face a few judgmental stares and comments and unequal rights. The worst of our problems is being kicked out of our homes by parents who can't understand that we are equal and being called faggot. We aren't being beaten and killed and mauled and enslaved by the millions. It might suck major ass that I can't marry my girlfriend or that we have to keep it a secret in public but for the love of God we are far, **far **from being persecuted."

"Now _that _was an awesome rant." Veronica concluded with a grin.

"I just understand that people like us need to be damn thankful for everything we have rather than bitching about the scant few things we don't have." Millie shrugged.

"Well, I wouldn't say it's bitching. Some of it is. There are necessary elements who push for a better place in society. Just like the equal rights movement." Veronica pointed out.

"Yes," Millie said, leaning closer and warming to the topic she was discussing with an obviously well-informed and intelligent thinker, "But what those people are doing is not petty over-exaggeration. Equal rights movers among my crowd are asking for equal status among others. They aren't calling it what it isn't. They call it prejudice, which is exactly what it is. But… Prejudice isn't inherently evil. Persecution is."

"And the people who are saying that a few harsh words and being seen as second class citizens is called prejudice are right?" Veronica asked.

"Yes." Millie said.

Veronica waited patiently before Millie smiled and continued.

"Prejudice isn't evil. It's not nice and it certainly hurts feelings and emotions. But like I said; we aren't being burned at the stake by the millions. A few of us have been killed by zealots. _That _is persecution. But as loudly as I have been called faggot; and I have been many times; I could never say that the sister-fucking hick is persecuting me. It hurts, but it doesn't kill. I hate prejudice too, but I am extremely thankful that I can still kiss my girlfriend and that sister-fucking hick can do nothing about it legally."

"You know, you really are something else. Keep on being you okay. Don't let anybody discourage you." Veronica said, awe alive in her voice.

"Thanks. But I don't need you to tell me that." Millie said with a confident grin.

**BBBBBBB**

Kazdin and Boone strode steadily over to where Veronica was sitting with the dark haired young woman, speaking animatedly about some unknown subject. Veronica was obviously impressed and enjoying the conversation as well as the unknown lady was enjoying speaking her mind.

"Looks like she's having a good time." Boone said with a grin.

"Yeah, seems like it. Hope she isn't giving anything away." Kazdin said.

"No, Veronica's smart. She wouldn't give anything away about where we came from." Boone said, not buying for a second that his best friend would be dumb enough to say something about the Transportalponder or the Great War.

The duo continued walking toward Veronica who looked up with recognition.

"Hey Ronnie. Who's your new friend?" Kazdin asked, looking sweetly at the young woman who lowered her eyes shyly.

"Kazdin, meet Millie. We've been talking for a while as you two ditched me to go dance to a song you've listened to a billion times now." Veronica said, feigning insult and introducing Millie at the same time.

"Yeah well you were boring." Kazdin said. Veronica laughed aloud and punched her friend in the arm. Kazdin laughed and kissed Veronica's knuckles.

"Hi Millie. I'm Kazdin Willow. This is my husband Craig Boone." She said nicely.

"Hey guys. Like she said, my name is Millie." She replied, not quite knowing what to say.

"I'm sure you've figured it out by now, but we're not from around here. No reason to be shy around any of us." Veronica assured the girl. She smiled and nodded.

"So you're not judgmental 50s stereotypes?" Millie asked.

"No, God no. These people make me sick. We… came here by accident. Apparently the travel agent doesn't own a globe." Kazdin said staring playfully at Boone.

"It was a mistake and never to happen again. Next time I'll send us to Hawaii." Boone said with a chuckle.

"You too? Wow. Please, take me with you." Millie joked. Kazdin chuckled.

"Well I would but you would have to fit in the overhead bin." Kazdin said.

"I was totally joking. I could never leave my family or my girlfriend behind. But, I absolutely adore that you were able to show these bunch of male-dominated assholes a little bit of girl power." The young woman said animatedly.

"You don't know the half of it. If you knew a tenth of what these ladies have been through in the fighting department you wouldn't believe it." Boone said.

"Not even I believe it sometimes." Kazdin muttered.

"Anyway, thanks for punching those guys around. Maybe it'll inspire some battered lady to give her husband a knuckle sandwich now that she's seen that it's possible."

Millie stood and shook Kazdin's hand, then Boone's. Finally she smiled coyly up to Veronica. She moved closer and pressed her lips to Veronica's, surprising the older woman.

Millie tasted of mint and tobacco. Her lips were spongy but firm and while her tongue did not try to invade the older woman's mouth, she imagined it would be swirling with hers confidently. Millie separated from Veronica and smiled in admiration.

"Don't tell Cheryl." She said softly.

The assembled men and women all looked on, looking disgusted.

"The fuck are you all looking at?" Veronica groused loudly.

"A couple faggots apparently." Someone called to the laughter of everyone, and Millie's chagrin.

Veronica looked to Millie, whose eyes were downcast and sad. Rage burned within her breast. She looked to Kazdin and Boone, all three of which looked as angry as she. Both nodded.

Veronica frowned with anger as she very quickly kicked first one foot and then the other in rapid succession. The stiletto high heeled shoes she wore sped quickly toward the forehead of the first two people she noticed who had spoke disdainfully in their direction. One shoe hit the heckling man's nose, snapping the cartilage like a wet twig. He fell to the ground unconscious.

The second shoe struck a lovely middle aged woman between the eyes, knocking her unconscious as well. As the music continued on Kazdin, Veronica and Boone cleaned _their _house of the stink of cultural hate and distaste. Anyone who fought back was beaten into submission as most of the throng ran out the doors and into the night.

Later on, Boone, Kazdin and Veronica walked through the front door and into the crisp and slightly chilly night. Millie flanked them and they turned to look at her.

"I know you said that prejudice isn't evil, and it's not. I mean, everyone is entitled to free speech, but that shit pisses me off. I hope we didn't embarrass you but every one of those fuckers got what they deserved." Veronica crowed, bloodied and bruised hands resting on her hips.

Millie giggled, feeling drunk at the enormous fight she had witnessed.

"It isn't what I would have done… But it was fucking incredible. Very entertaining." The young woman said happily.

"Stand up for yourself, okay?" Veronica said, placing her hands on the shorter woman's forearms.

"That's nice of you, but I don't work that way. People are free. They can call me disgusting names if they want to." Millie said with a grin.

"But why?" Kazdin wondered aloud.

"Because my happiness, my essence… Who I am, is not dependent on who they are, what they think or what they say. I am in love with a wonderful woman and that's who I am. I don't care how many people say I am not on par with how normal they are. That means nothing to me. I don't need their approval nor their permission to make love to Cheryl… or in another time, Veronica…"

Veronica blushed and giggled.

"Do you hear me? I don't need their approval nor their permission. The fact is I will always be better than them. I will always be stronger. They can say what they want and it will never faze me." Millie promised.

The trio nodded.

"Listen, I know we all broke major taboos here, so what the hell. I trust you won't tell anybody this… not even Cheryl." Kazdin prodded, pointing a finger at Millie, her other arm clasped under her breast.

Millie promised.

"Good. We aren't from here. The truth is we're not even from this time." Kaz admitted.

Millie's eyes opened wide, and then she smiled.

"I knew there was something off with you guys. Two women beating the holy hell out of a roomful of men? Standards and beliefs which are held only by one percent of America's population… I knew you had to be from another time." Millie exclaimed excitedly, remembering to keep her voice down.

"It's true." Kazdin confirmed. She pulled the Transportalponder from her purse and showed it to Millie, who gazed upon it transfixed.

"You know what… I'll miss you guys." Millie said after a few moments' worth of silence.

"I'll miss you too, Veronica." The young woman added as she blushed. Veronica pulled the girl in closer, pressing her mouth to hers. Her tongue pushed against the bewildered young woman's lips, which opened allowing their first real kiss to heat up.

After a few moments, Veronica pulled away.

"Don't tell Daniel." Veronica said coyly before touching Kazdin's arm, who in turn touched Boone's.

Kaz pressed the button on the side which transported them back to their own time. The dust, the disrepair of the strip's buildings and the drunken slew of men and women walking the streets truthfully spoke of the fact that the trio was back where they belonged.

"Well…" Kazdin sighed.

The other two looked her way, looking weary after their adventure.

"That was fun. But let's put this away in the vault. From now on this thing's time travelling capabilities are strictly forbidden. I will ask Arcade to tamper with it so that it will solely take us to Big Mountain and back and nowhere… or no-when else." Kazdin decreed.

This was answered by a unanimous affirmative. The action was carried out and the trio would remember their adventure; as well as Millie; for the rest of their days.

THE END

**A/N: Hey everyone, I just wanted to drop in and say thank you for reading. I know it's been like two months since I finished this piece. All I can say is I have been writing other projects and most recently I have been on a month and a half long break from writing for Brotherhood of Steel. That is officially over and I have been working on chapter 27, so that is coming up soon, I promise. **

**This chapter was also rife with politics. Yes these are my views in the form of provocative little Millie. I really like that character, but I don't believe we will ever see her again. If I think of a place to use her I will, but I think that's the only time she'll be used. **

**I realize that this is not everyone's view of homosexual PREJUDICE. Some people think of the shouting, the heckling of homosexuals as a crime. I disagree. Prejudice is one more facet of freedom. I disagree with it, I think it is ugly and it is definitely wrong to prejudice anybody, but remember that this is an imperfect world we live in. But that does not make this stuff persecution in any way, shape or form. When gay people are being enslaved, killed, tortured, beaten and taken from their loved ones and placed in prison for being homosexual, then that is when you may call it persecution. Prejudice is ugly, but remember: It hurts, but it doesn't kill. Every homosexual and bisexual man or woman in America NEEDS TO BE THANKFUL for everything they have, rather than focusing completely on the MAYBE two things they don't have.**

**I love you all and I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Be good.**

**-FalloutGuy**


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